I can
by MyladyLilith
Summary: Inspired by Blue's ESC entry "I can", this is a look into Harry's head post 9.8. H/R, naturally.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Spooks, Blue, or the song "I can". Kudos, EMI, and the awesome writers do, respectively. I do however own Harry ... just daydreaming ;).  
>Since this is my first fanfic, I'd appreciate some honest feedback telling me whether I should continue writing or start right here. ;)<br>Please note that I don't have a beta reader and English is not my first language, so if you discover any mistakes, just point them out and I'll edit it. :)

Well... here we go.

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><p><strong>I can<strong>

_You were the eyes in the face of fortune  
>I lost my way and I couldn't find you<br>Oh, oh no_

Harry had often wondered whether he would have been able to act differently. Her disapproval had made him insecure. Not that he had thought she would see him as her knight in shining armour and fall into his arms, but he had hoped for some sort of understanding. He had hoped she would know why he had to choose her life over some unimportant decoy project, had hoped to gain back a small amount of trust, to make her see that he would protect her. Even if he had failed to so twice before...

When he thought back to that evening in his office, he didn't know what hurt him more, the definite end of his professional career for which he had sacrificed so much, or the disdain and anger in her eyes telling him that she knew he was going to be sacked and she thought he deserved it. The knowledge that an act which was only meant to save her and perhaps to rebuild her trust had led to the destroying of all hopes he had ever dared to harbour towards them reuniting.

He remembered her beautiful eyes in that moment, more clearly than he ever would have wanted to. Their sparkle gone, buried under the guilt of possibly being responsible for the death of thousands of people, and the deep blue replaced by a grey shadow, not allowing any feelings towards him to show, instead leaving him to contemplate how bleak his life would become, how sad it would be to be exiled from the country he fought for, how lonely he would be without his job to keep him company, how lost he would be without her.

_You closed the door and you kept on walking  
>Left me behind and there's no more talking<br>No, Oh no_

After the Home Secretary had called to let him know the inquiry was coming, he stayed on the roof. He thought back on all the times he had stood in that very same spot, trying to come up with a way to protect his city and his country from the latest terrorist plot, often wondering whether they had chosen the right way to deal with the problems at hand, never believing Britain and her people might not be worth the effort. He thought it odd to be called a traitor when all his actions had resulted in was a small diplomatic gathering with the Chinese to ensure that both sides held more or less the same positions of power than they had done before the whole Albany affair. Still, he figured everybody needed to blame somebody for something, and he had offered himself as the best choice.

He didn't turn as he heard the door to the roof open. He knew it was Ruth, no one else ever came up here, at least not while he was there.  
>"What happened?"<br>"There's going to be an inquiry into my whole career." When she didn't react, he continued. "I'll leave tonight. Don't want them to drag me out of my office."  
>He heard a sharp intake of breath and then footsteps walking away from him. "Ah. Thanks for letting one of us know" she said, sounding indifferently.<br>He still didn't turn as he heard the door close behind her again. His heart had broken the second she had stopped walking toward him and shattered when she left. There was nothing left to do for him.

_I can, I will, I know  
>I can untie these hands<br>And get back up again_

The inquiry itself was a rather lame affair, considering the mud everyone had been expecting. He really only got a slap on the wrist, if being exiled counted as a slapped wrist.

The Home Secretary had walked up to him afterwards and asked him to take a long vacation.  
>"Thought I'm on a "forever" kind of vacation.", Harry had grumbled.<br>"No, old chap, you're too much worth for that. Take a few weeks, do some sightseeing, and then take over one of the foreign offices. We can't just let an officer of your level of experience quit over a small stupidity, that would be suicide."  
>"Great", Harry had said, "and here I was thinking I would get bored with the only highlight being competitions for the best front lawn and the cleanest car in the neighbourhood."<p>

He should have known. Quitting the service had been nearly impossible for Tom, and he had been just a field officer. There was no way the service would just let him leave, especially not if he was to be sent in some kind of disgrace into a foreign country, in danger of being converted to terrorism by any potential enemy that came along. In a way, it was a victory for him. He would get the chance to keep doing his job, to climb back up the ladder again. And he supposed, that was something to be grateful for.

The Home Secretary laughed. "You'll never win a lawn competition, Harry. Not with that little beast of yours digging around in it, and not with you being away so much." Seeing that his words hadn't cheered Harry up in the slightest, the Home Secretary decided upon another approach. "Come on Harry, think of all the great places you'll get to visit. You can embark on your very own Grand Tour"!"  
>He laughed, not realizing that he had just stabbed Harry into an open wound. A wound that would never heal. Harry knew there was no way he could work with a different team. With a different analyst. He had gone through that once, and no matter how much he wanted to show his strength, he didn't think he could get back up under these circumstances.<p>

_I have never lost anything quite like this  
>No second chances if I don't find it<br>No, Oh no_

He was given a little time to wrap things up. He had lunch with Catherine and even managed to exchange a few short messages with Graham. He gave them and Jane most of his things, not knowing what to do with them. He gifted a few items to the elderly woman that had put up with Scarlet when he had had to be at work for more hours than could possibly be healthy. He briefly wondered whether to give Scarlet to her as well, but he just didn't think he would make it without a few things to remind him of the life he had left behind. And he would never be able to give up Fidget.

Even though Ruth had never reclaimed him, Harry still thought of him as Ruth's cat", feeling warm inside whenever the little animal decided to curl up on his lap or on the pillow next to him, causing him to dream about a life with Ruth by his side.  
>He knew he would never have it; he had forfeited his chance when he obeyed to her command not to say anything at the docks all those years ago. He had still tried his best after she had come back, but deep in his heart he knew that he would never find that moment again, never have that chance again, never have any right to dream of her like that again.<p>

_It's like rain falling down / Drops of pain hit the ground  
>I can't speak  There's no sound when you're gone_

His travel pack, including Scarlet and Fidget, was already on board of the plane. He paced around the waiting area, unsure of what to do with himself until his flight was called. He had said his good-byes to all but the most important person, leaving contact details for his children with Jane, and now felt like he was stranded in a country where he didn't belong anymore.

He stared outside into the rain, glad for the typical grey of London, fitting his mood perfectly. He tried not to think of her, but it proved to be impossible. It would be the last moments they would spend on the same soil, even though they were miles apart, and he couldn't help but feel crushed by all the regret for chances lost, moments never to be had, and a life together, never to be lived.

He was close to crying, the pain in his head drowning all the sounds around him, and so was oblivious to the sound of footsteps approaching. But no matter how far away his thoughts were, there was one voice that could always pull him out of his trance, ground him to reality, give him sense, make him focus on the here and now.  
>You weren't thinking you could get away with taking my cat but not me, were you?"<p>

_We're not the first ones to be divided, oh  
>Won't be the last to be reunited, no<em>

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><p>Please leave a review on your way out.<br>And by the way, good luck to the UK on sunday ... you would get 12 points from me ;).


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